


Hot Springs

by Axelex12



Series: Robb X Ashara [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Affair with previous lover's son, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bath Sex, Bathing/Washing, Boss/Employee Relationship, Breaking Up & Making Up, Cunnilingus, Desk Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, MILFs, Maledom, Office Sex, Older Woman/Younger Man, Post-Divorce, Public Nudity, Skinny Dipping, Stripping, Teen Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:13:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26532664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Axelex12/pseuds/Axelex12
Summary: He's completely, utterly, unquestionably unsuitable for her; he's younger, son of her former fling, and her assistant. So why is the bloody man here, when the reason she run away from Starfall was to get away from him?
Relationships: Ashara Dayne/Ned Stark (former fling), Ashara Dayne/Oberyn Martell (divorce), Ashara Dayne/Robb Stark, Brandon Stark/Elia Martell (mentioned)
Series: Robb X Ashara [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2032456
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Hot Springs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dig_dug_dag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dig_dug_dag/gifts), [Azor_Stargaryen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azor_Stargaryen/gifts), [Jon_Stargaryen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jon_Stargaryen/gifts), [R_TarStark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_TarStark/gifts).



> Prompt: #36 "Revenge is a dish best served...shagged." Ashara used to date (Character A), but was dumped for another woman. She meets their son years later and decides payback is in order. Male character's son is of age.  
> Summary: He's completely, utterly, unquestionably unsuitable for her; he's younger, son of her former fling, and her assistant. So why is the bloody man here, when the reason she run away from Starfall was to get away from him?  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Pairing: Ashara Dayne/ Robb Stark  
> Kink: Striptease, sexy/witty banter, exhibitionism, skinny dipping

** HOT SPRINGS **

Ashara sank in the water with a blissful sigh; her sore muscles relaxing on their own, and her magic tingled as the enchanted water quite literally worked magic on her. Resting her head back, she made a mental note to send a gift, an expensive one, to Elia as soon as she was back to Starfall.  
Her dark haired friend had been the one to wave instead of Oberyn of her face the promotional pamphlet for the famous The Broken Anvil Inn, a small inn near King's Landing walls, and point blank told her that she needed a vacation.

After the divorce was finalized last month, Ashara had did her best to give the press vultures no reason to start digging further into her personal affairs than they did regularly. The separation had been amicable, and she needed no gossip mongers spreading tales of either hers or Oberyn's heartbreak, or supposed indiscretions that lead to their marriage's end.  
The result was that she overworked herself to the point of exhaustion; even Oberyn, who had never complained about her work schedule while they were married, noted that if she kept this schedule up, she'd end up in The Great Sept of Baelor.

The Broken Anvil Inn was famous for the hot springs located in their property, Elia Martell had explained with a smirk, along with the rejuvenating effect the waters had on an individual's magic. To stay there normally cost an arm and leg, but the  
new owner, a Mrs Allerie Tyrell, happened to be an acquaintance of Mrs Lannister, and was more than willing to accommodate a woman of Ashara's calibre. After all, as the witch said to Elia Martell, the fact Ashara Dayne, nee Martell, would be staying at her inn, would be a better advertisement than publishing an advert in the Westeros Prophet.  
The photo of the picturesque inn, and the promise of hot springs and delicious breakfast with fresh bread and home made marmalade, had her packing her bags an hour after she took the afternoon off; the perks of being one's boss.  
She arrived in the Inn an hour before dinner, and was immediately ushered in by the very hospitable Mrs Daenerys Targaryen, who reminded Ashara of a younger Mrs Rhaella. The smell of dinner followed them all the way to her room – a nice room that overlooked the magically enchanted garden (there were too many flowers, exotic, out of season, blooming to be the work of nature) in the back of the house.

After a good night's sleep, she explored the woods nearby the Inn, and visited the local shops, picking a small diner for lunch. Returning to her room, she ordered a light dinner, and decided that what would be the perfect way to end her second night of vacation, was to finally visit the infamous hot springs. Now that she was there, Ashara privately admitted this vacation was exactly what she didn't know she needed. The public scrutiny was just the tip of the iceberg in the mess that was her private life lately. The main reason she was strung tauter than a bow, had nothing to do with the divorce, or the press, or even her crazy, self imposed work schedule.

No, the reason was far more personal, and far more dangerous to her reputation, dignity and overall life if anyone caught a whiff of it. At forty six, she considered herself, perhaps not old, but certainly not young; having had two children, now young adults, Ashara lacked any vanity regarding her appearance.  
Yes, she worked out – Allyria had taken an interesting in tennis at a young age, and demanded her mother to join her for matches every other day, - and had curves that many women half her age would die for, but she had never been beautiful, merely pretty. Her hair that so troubled her in her youth, had calmed as she grew older, and now fell in soft waves down her back; she had yet to notice any grey marring the mahogany curls, but at her age it was expected. Her skin was clear and smooth, her face lacking wrinkles, and her eyes were as bright as ever.  
She carried herself with confidence, born from her success in her work and contentment with her life, and her intelligence, strong will, morals and hard working personality were admired and revered by her co-workers, leading her to become the youngest Head of the Department of Law Enforcement in all Westeros. And because she was not old, she had certain... needs. Needs that she couldn't keep taking care of herself.  
Loneliness played a part in her decision to start dating again, as well; Allyria was living alone in Casterly Rock, apprenticing under Professor Tywin Lannister, who at the age of eighty seven, was considering retiring and had offered the position of Apprentice to Allyria in her last year in Westeros Academy. Arithmancy had always been her daughter's favourite subject, so the young Dornish had immediately jumped at the opportunity to earn a Mastery under such an esteemed Maester.  
Edric, after taking the year after his graduation to travel the world, had decided he wanted to be a dentist like his Dornish grandparents. He was in the North, studying in a Winterfell university.  
Both had given her and Oberyn their blessings on finding another partner, showing a shocking level of maturity neither parent had expected from them.

  
The only problem with that scenario was that most men she met, sparked no interest in her; oh, they were handsome, intelligent and successful in their respective work fields, but none had made her shiver with anticipation, none had caused her toes to curl with pleasure when they kissed her.  
Passion.

That was what she wanted, needed. And not one of the men she'd gone on a date with, had been enough to give her what she lacked in her life. But no, that was not, strictly speaking, true. There was one man... One man who could make her quiver with lust,  
whose scent was enough to make her lower muscles clench wantonly. One man who was completely, utterly, unquestionably forbidden. That man caused her to question her morals, and beliefs with just one look from his gorgeous eyes. Twenty one, nearly twenty two, Robb Stark was probably the sexiest man she had ever laid eyes on. Tall, athletic, with broad shoulders, a trim waist leading to muscular thighs, and abs made of rock, the eldest Stark heir had silver-blue eyes, the colour darkening or lightening depending on his mood, and the standard Tully fiery red hair, which he wore shorter in the back, with his longer fringe falling over his stunning eyes.  
The young Northerner wasn't just picture perfect; he was brilliant – **graduated second to Allyria** , - charming, mischievous and had a wicked sense of humour.  
On top of his many good points, he was hard working, he didn't believe in North exclusiveness – he actually showed a preference in dating Dornishwomen or Reachwomen, - and had never tried to use his family name to get something, choosing to work his way to the top; something Ashara respected him for.

In fact, when Robb had showed up in her office for an interview for the position of her assistant, he had been professional, despite being friends with her children and nephews and nieces. Not once had he let their familiarity affect their working relationship.

 _Until recently that is_.

For the past year, she had noticed him watching her; more closely, and much more intensely than he used to when he was a kid. Then, Oberyn and Arthur Dayne had found it hilarious that the young Stark obviously had a crush on her, constantly teasing her when Robb would blush and stutter when she addressed him or smiled at the young boy; she had a feeling, her two best friends wouldn't find it as cute and funny now.  
Not if they could see the way his eyes would darken as he watched her across the conference table when she held Department meetings; or the way he'd murmur her name, caressing every syllable, and bit his lip, staring at her under his fiery red fringe with stormy grey eyes, sensual promises glinting in them.  
Neither Arthur nor Oberyn would laugh if they had seen the way the young Northener had pushed her against the bookcase in her office last week, shoving his thigh between her legs, and plundering her mouth with his tongue, wrecking havoc in her senses, and ruining her knickers with the way he rubbed his hard thigh against her clit, bringing her to completion within minutes. They would have probably pass out, or point at him, if they were there when he ripped her knickers off, dropped to his knees and used his mouth for what seemed like hours on her, making her come again and again, until she couldn't stand straight.

Yes, her friends would surely overreact if they ever find out that young Stark had bent her over her desk and fucked her hard, his stamina incredible, or how she had plead and cried for him to thrust harder, deeper, faster. Or the way she'd clenched around him, and had to bite her palm, hard enough to draw blood, to stop herself from screaming his name, since the cocky bastard had refused to silence the room, revelling in her desperate gasps and her inability to keep quiet.

The memory of his harsh pants, the crude sound of skin slapping against skin, and his dirty talk in her ear as he practically drove her insane with lust, had caused her to wake up every day since that fateful afternoon, soaking wet, and aching for his touch.

Mortified at what she had allowed to occur –  
**_he was Edric's age!_**  
**_Ned's son!_**  
**_Her assistant!_**  
Really, there were countless reasons that that afternoon had been a mistake of epic proportions, - the brunette witch had kept her office the next day, declaring it a mistake, and biting the inside of her cheek to keep her expression stony when his eyes darkened in anger, his lips pressed in a thin line.

Repeating her reasons to him, she had emphasized the importance of keeping things professional between them, and send him away. After the initial anger at her behaviour though, Robb's unwanted – **_liar!_ **\- attentions returned with a vengeance, as if he was determined to call her out on her lie. Careful to never be alone in a room with him, Ashara did her best to ignore his innuendos and fight the desire he ignited inside her when he deliberately brushed up against her in the hallways, or brushed her fingers with his when handing her a folder; the evil man knew the effect he had on her, and was actually amused at her feeble attempts to stave him off, knowing it was a losing battle.

Not even a week later, and Ashara had been ready to spontaneously combust from sexual frustration, when he finally managed to corner her in her office. He had her skirt hiked up her thighs, his hand already inside her knickers, and his mouth latched to her throat when Brandonhad knocked on her door.  
"We'll finish this later", he'd darkly promised, hungrily kissing her mouth as he'd roughly pinched her clit, making her bite her tongue to keep from moaning and alerting Brandon to what exactly she'd been doing with her assistant and his nephew.  
Ashara had fled to Uncle Brandon Stark and Elia Martell's cottage in Harrenhall that night, instinctively knowing Robb would show up at her place. And she had been right; the next day, the redhead Northerner had been spitting mad at her, glaring at her through his fringe during the weekly Department meeting. She dreaded to think what his reaction was going to be when he found out, she'd skip the rest of the day, and took off from work this week; she only prayed that he'd not make a scene when she returned to the office.  
This trip was meant for her to relax, and forget about her problems, mainly with Robb. She intended to stock up her resolution, and possibly find someone more suitable for her, in order to permanently push the insufferable Stark away. This simply wouldn't do.  
Maker knew, she wanted Robb. She wanted him with an intensity that frightened her, and for that alone, he was dangerous.  
Not to mention, it was so fucking wrong.  
Elia Martell had said that the age difference was not so great; a twenty five year difference was minuscule, and there had been even greater gaps in arranged marriages.  
But Ashara had been raised in Dorne; and even though such relationships were not unheard of, they were still gossiped about, and never in a good manner regarding the female.  
**_Cougar_** , **_cradle snatcher_** , were just a few expressions that made her stomach coil with mortification; **SMITH, her reputation would be ruined!**  
_Why, oh why, had the damn man taken an interest in her?_ Robb was fucking gorgeous, he could have any woman he wanted, so why had he decided on her?  
_**She who was old enough to be his mother? Seven, she was older than his mother! And he was friends with Edric and Allyria! Sweet Maker, there were just so many reasons this couldn't work!**_  
The fact she had dated Eddard for close to six months in their youth notwithstanding; some people, Catelyn included, might think she seduced the younger man, as an act of revenge against his father, but Ashara would never do something as petty. Catelyn's and Ned's sins were not Robb's.

But it was one additional reason on why a potential relationship between them, was wrong, with a capital **W**.

So why in the hell, was she trying to convince herself it wasn't as bad as it really was? Why was she contemplating the possibility, when her rational mind knew this was a mistake. Because he gave her passion... Because when he held her, when he looked at her, she was just Ashara; a woman.  
Because when he called out her name during his release, it was laced with true affection, his touch gentle and revering when he pulled her to his arms. Because he said those damning three words, and he had been sincere; he meant them. His childhood admiration had grown to love, he'd said, and the way his eyes had stared straight to her soul, were proof that despite his young age, this was no mere infatuation.

And that in itself, was terrifying. Elia Martell, who of course knew everything, had been torn between cheering for her – a younger man, Ashara! Well done, girl! - and trying to be supportive of her decision to push him away. Although, Elia martell had to begin with, tentatively proposed the idea of giving the younger man a chance.  
Was the potential scandal – okay, it was a foregone conclusion that there'd be a scandal the likes of which the Westeos had yet to see, - worth her unhappiness?  
Because there was no doubt, Ashara was miserable; she hardly slept, and when she did vivid dreams of her afternoon with Robb woke her up. Her morals raged a war with her wants, the fear of losing everything she'd work hard all these years for was up against her wild need for her assistant.  
Water sloshing around her as she stretched her legs, she frowned in thought, her lids closing; was it really worth it?  
Could she actually see a future with Robb Stark, if she got over her fear?  
The sex had been great, phenomenal even, but was it enough? What about their hobbies? Beliefs? Aspirations and plans for the future? He was young, he must have plans!  
And what about their family? Their friends? Surely, they'd face the scorn of the whole Westeros society if their affair became public!  
Was he worth sacrificing her reputation over?

 ** _Maker, what a mess_**.  
Her questions yearned for answers, but in this situation, there was only one way to get those answers; and it required her to confront the same man she had been running from, for this whole week.  
"Maker, what a mess."

She repeated aloud, wrinkling her nose as the scent of sandalwood, musk and something else invaded her nostrils. A shiver ran down her spine – she knew that scent.  
"Hello, Ms. Dayne."  
She violently jerked, and bashed her head against the stone ledge of the spring; swearing up a storm, blinking back tears of pain as she tentatively rubbed the back of her throbbing head, and looked up, her heart in her throat.  
His jeans hung low on his hips, and his jumper clung to his body like a second skin; his hair was dark with sweat and his fringe fell over his smouldering eyes. In one word, he looked edible.  
"Um..."  
Get yourself together, woman! You are forty six, not sixteen!  
Why was he here? How did he know where she was?

What was she to do!?  
So absorbed was she in her thoughts, shock still wrecking havoc in her mental faculties, she missed the way his eyes flashed wickedly, and the naughty smirk gracing his lips. Quickly coming back to her senses, Ashara was ready to demand his leave, when she noticed Robb bending over, his hands busy untying his shoes.  
"What are you doing?" She demanded, shakily.

 _He couldn't possible... Could he!? No, oh, please, no!_  
Robb ignored her; after taking his shoes off, he straightened, and sent a smirk at her, making her shiver.  
"Robb-"  
"Don't talk." He ordered, his voice husky.  
The Dornish Milf gulped nervously, and pressed against the hard edge of the hot spring enclosure, mentally pondering the merits of making a run for it. She was naked, and she'd probably slip if she tried to run, not to mention Robb was far more athletic than she, but if she stayed... Well, she had an idea what was going to happen, and she'd tried to avoid this exact scenario for the past week. A futile endeavour as it seemed; really, his reticence would have been admirable, if it wasn't so annoying!

Shaking with nerves, she was about to reach for her towel, when he abruptly pulled his shirt over his head, and threw it away carelessly, exposing the tight muscle shirt he wore underneath, that did nothing to hide his perfectly formed physique.  
Her mouth went dry as he ran his hands through his hair, pushing the longer strands back and away from his eyes. Keeping his eyes on her, he trailed his long fingers down his face, drawing her attention to his lips, and even lower to his throat. Her inner walls pulsed, memories of how his skin tasted when she licked the column of his throat invading her senses. He seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because his eyes turned darker, pinning her on the spot. Her wanton side won, and Ashara decided to throw caution to the wind. She'd worry about the repercussions of her actions tomorrow. For now, she had a sexy man treating her to the most sensual striptease of her life, and she planned to enjoy every minute of it.  
Understanding dawned on his features as her body relaxed, and his lips stretched to a sensual smile, sending heat pooling in her core. Ashara bit her lip as his hands slowly trailed down his body; he grabbed his shirt and pulled it up and over his head, throwing it behind his back without a second glance to see where it landed. His skin glistened with sweat; her eyes tracked the procession of a drop of sweat down his pectorals to his defined abdominal muscles.  
His low laugh startled her, and she looked up, a blush staining her cheeks.  
"See something you like?" He huskily teased, a finger tracing the waist of his jeans enticingly, bringing her attention to the dark blond trail of hair on his lower stomach. She should feel angry at his cheek, but at the moment, it only fuelled her desire.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she went for nonchalance. It was a Herculean effort, when her body was positively humming with arousal, but she managed.  
"Not in particularly; I've seen better in my day."  
Ribbing at his male pride, after tormenting him for a week by pushing him away, might not have been the best course of action, but it was too late now.  
Robbthough didn't appear insulted; he merely lifted an eyebrow, his eyes dancing with amusement.  
"Have you, now?" He asked tauntingly. "If that's the case, perhaps I should stop. I wouldn't want to bore you, now, would I?"  
_Impudent brat!_  
Mentally scowling, she contemplated her answer; in the end, her pride won out. She had already given in her most primal needs. One concession was enough for the night.

"Perhaps, you should." She challenged, lifting her chin stubbornly. Noting the way his jaw locked, Ashara knew she should say no more, but she couldn't stop herself. "I'm sure I can find other means of... entertainment around here. In fact... Mr Selmy offered to show me around earlier today; perhaps I should take him up on that offer, hm?"  
"Perhaps, you should." He smiled sweetly, his mercurial eyes flashing. "If you want Mr Selmy to lose a fucking limb, that is." She rolled her eyes.  
"Violent thing, aren't you?"  
" ** _Possessive_** might be a better word," he argued, his hands working on his zipper. Her inner muscles clenched in anticipation when he shoved his jeans down his strong thighs, revealing he wore no underwear underneath.

 _Oh my_.

Even if she had second thoughts about her actions, the sight of Robb Stark naked, staring at her with undisguised lust shining in his silvery blue eyes, would have obliterate them.  
_"I think I can live with that."_


End file.
